Helix (16 page)

He
headed towards it, leaning into the wind, his every step an effort.

Minutes
later he caught up with Kyrik, who gripped his arm and led him around the front
end of the gondola. Here, protected from the wind, half a dozen geologists and
engineers huddled, staring into the snowstorm.

Perhaps
twenty yards away, like something from an ancient chiaroscuro print, Ehrin made
out a phalanx of twenty men mounted on zeer, or what at first appeared to be
zeer. On closer inspection, the animals were bigger, shaggier, than their urban
cousins.

That
went, also, for their riders.

As
Ehrin stared, wondering whether to hold his ground or turn and run, a zeer
detached itself from the line and approached slowly. The other riders held
back, as if awaiting the outcome of this encounter. As the great beast
approached, Ehrin gained a better view of its rider.

The
man was bulky, but not with the expected padding. In fact he wore very little,
other than a harness across his shoulders, which supported an ancient, though
nevertheless lethal-looking, blunderbuss. His bulk was made up of fur, long
black hair that gave him the barbaric appearance of a wild animal. Ehrin
wondered at the hardiness of a people able to tolerate the sub-zero
temperatures, and the lacerating wind of the plains, practically naked.

The
man shouted suddenly, the gruff words incomprehensible.

Kyrik
leaned towards Ehrin and said, “They’ve been calling for five minutes. We don’t
understand a word.”

“At
least they haven’t drawn their weapons,” Ehrin said.

On
impulse, he stepped from the shadow of the gondola and raised a hand in a
gesture which he hoped might appear conciliatory. “Greetings. We are from
Agstarn, beyond the mountains.”

The
leader of the group inched his zeer forward, finally halting three yards from
where Ehrin stood.

At
closer quarters, other differences to the city dwellers became obvious: the
man’s snout seemed longer, his eyes set closer together, producing an overall
effect that looked both ugly and hostile.

He
barked another gruff sentence, and this time Ehrin made out what he thought
might be the word
trade...

“We
have not come to trade,” he said. “We are explorers, from beyond the
mountains.”

The
leader’s expression, remained hostile. He grunted, gesturing to this freighter,
then back towards the other tribesmen mounted on their zeer.

Ehrin
glanced back at Kyrik. “Go and fetch Sereth.”

He
returned his attention to the tribesman, taking in the workmanship of the
leather bridles and halters strapped about the zeer’s great muzzle. He gestured
and said, “Zeer? We have zeer in Agstarn...” The words elicited no response
from the tribesman, except perhaps a mystified furrowing of the man’s vast
brow.

By
now, other tribesmen had overcome their hesitancy and joined the first, staring
up at the swelling belly of the freighter’s scarlet envelope. They looked
nonplussed, and exchanged baffled growls amongst themselves.

Ehrin
guessed that the tribesmen were on average half a head taller than his own
people, and more muscular. They wore their head fur crested and coloured, a
fashion that would seem outrageously confrontational in the city.

If
they were to turn bellicose, he thought... if they were to interpret our
motives the wrong way, and decided to attack first and question their actions
later...

His
thoughts were interrupted by Sereth’s arrival. She peered out from beneath the
padding of her cap, her eyes widening at the sight of the tribesmen.

Ehrin
said, “They’ve spoken, but we don’t understand a word.”

Sereth
nodded, stepped forward and said, “Greetings, from the people of Agstarn.”

The
rider grunted something in reply. Ehrin glanced at Sereth, who gave an
encouraging smile.

“I
got about half of that. They speak our language, or rather what would have been
our language... what, a couple of hundred years ago?” She cleared her throat
and spoke. Watching her, listening to her, this woman he had known for three
years, he could only feel a swelling of pride at her achievement in
communicating with the tribesman.

The
rider smiled, a broad grin welcoming their mutual comprehension, and let forth
a volley of guttural sounds.

Sereth
replied in kind. The other tribesmen hunched forward in their saddles, the
better to hear the exchange.

She
turned to Ehrin. “They call themselves the people of the ice-henges, and come
from a village or settlement ten miles east of here. They saw our cloud-ships,
as they call them, and came for a closer look.”

She
addressed the rider, who replied with an affirmative nod and a long diatribe.

Sereth
relayed his words. “They are traders. They have limited contact with a tribe
who live in the foothills of our mountains, though on this side of the range.
These other people have dealings with villagers on the outskirts of Agstarn.
The people of the ice-henges have heard stories of our city, and our
cloud-ships. They thought they were legends, fairy stories.”

She
turned to the rider and spoke again.

When
he replied, she said to Ehrin, “They wish to know if we have anything to trade.
I said that we were not traders, but explorers. I don’t think they understand
the concept. Trade is the only way of life they know, as far as I can make
out.”

“Ask
them if they know who constructed the ziggurat.”

Sereth
nodded and relayed the question.

The
rider gestured, flinging an arm to the cloudrace and shouting a short reply.

Sereth
said, “He says that it’s the work of God.”

“That’s
very helpful,” Ehrin said.

But
the rider was going on, his words becoming louder, more insistent, his gestures
more extravagant. Sereth nodded, screwing her face up as she attempted to
follow what he said.

At
last the leader paused, and Sereth said, “He says that God made the temple when
he made the world. He made it for the ice-henge people, who celebrate the
bounty of their God every year with a gathering in the temple. Non-believers,
he said, are not welcome at the temple.”

The
rider leaned forward on his mount and addressed Sereth.

At
length she reported, “I’m not sure I understood all of that... but he said
something along the lines of... well, that their God still watches over them,
protects them. This is the bit I’m not sure about: he claims that the hand of
God, or maybe the arm, reaches down from heaven every so often and touches the
temple, thus reassuring his people that he is still there, caring for them.”
She shook her head. “What would Kahran say about that?”

Ehrin
smiled. “He’d probably consider it as ludicrous as Cannak’s beliefs. Sorry,
Ser.”

The
rider was speaking again. Sereth leaned forward, battling with the competing
wind to hear his words. The tribesman finished his speech with a flamboyant
gesture, both arms describing great circles as if miming an explosion.

Sereth
said, “Once, in living memory, the ice-henge people angered their God. They...
I think they strayed from their nomadic path... anyway, their God was angry,
and the next time his arm appeared in the heavens it held a fiery torch which
so frightened his people that they returned to the path of their ancestors.”

One
of the riders stirred his mount and edged up beside the leader, conferring in
hushed tones. The leader heard him out, his expression serious, then replied
briefly.

“What
are they saying?” Ehrin whispered.

Sereth
shook her head. “I didn’t get much. The odd word. Something about trade again.”

The
leader spoke to Sereth, leaning forward and bracing his bare arms on the pommel
of his saddle. He flicked his head to one side, in a gesture Ehrin took to
indicate the second dirigible moored beyond the freighter.

While
the tribesman spoke, for longer this time, Ehrin realised that despite his
padded clothing he was beginning to feel the cold. He looked along the line of
the tribesmen, not one of them wearing anything that might be considered
protective clothing. They appeared not to be discommoded by the cold in the
slightest.

He
felt Sereth grip his arm. “I’m not sure I understand this... I think I’m
missing something.” She fired a series of guttural calls to the head tribesman.

He
replied, grunting shortly.

She
turned her cold face to Ehrin, shaking her head. “I was right. I didn’t
mishear.”

“What?”

“They’re
traders. They trade with the people of the near mountain, as they call them.”

“I
don’t see—” Ehrin began.

Sereth
cut in, “It’s what they trade in that’s... alarming, Ehrin. I thought I
couldn’t possibly be interpreting correctly at first, but I clarified the fact.
They trade in people.”

Ehrin
echoed the word, staring at her.

“Slaves.
They keep slaves. I think they’re people from smaller, weaker tribes to the
west. They have little use for them, being essentially nomadic, but they trade
them with the people of the near mountain, who put the slaves to work in their
villages. In return, the people of the ice-henges receive food during lean
times and the occasional zeer.”

“Great.
So they wanted to trade us food for slaves? Tell them that we don’t work that
way.”

He
stopped. Sereth was shaking her head. “They don’t want food. They want to know
if we have slaves to trade. They’ll give us zeer, and sell on the slaves to the
mountain people.”

“In
that case inform them, in the politest possible way, that we’re all out of
slaves today. Maybe next time.”

Before
she could relay this, the tribesman spoke.

Sereth
nodded and said, “He seems to think that we do have slaves. He’s saying
something about the lesser cloud-ship. He’s asking if the people within it are
for trade.”

Ehrin
was tempted to say that the tribespeople could take Cannak for nothing, but
restrained himself,

Sereth
spoke to the leader, then reported to Ehrin. “I’ve told him that we are all
together. Our friends aren’t for trade. He... I don’t think he likes the sound
of that.”

The
leader was scowling and talking hurriedly to the riders on his left and right.

“If
it looks like it might get nasty, tell them that we have other things to trade.
Gifts.”

Sereth
nodded, waiting for the leader to finish his conference with his companions.

Ehrin
turned and saw Kyrik and the others, watching him. “I don’t know how much of
that you heard, but I think we’d better board the ships. Prepare for immediate
flight.”

Kyrik
turned and gestured to the others. Quietly, they filed away around the prow of
the gondola, slipping through the falling snow like ghosts.

Despite
the chill, Ehrin was hot.

Sereth
spoke to the leader, more than the usual questions or short statements this
time. She stopped and said in a whispered aside to Ehrin, “I’ve offered them
food and knives. They don’t seem interested. They’re convinced we have people
to trade.”

The
leader barked something.

Sereth
looked stricken. “God in the Grey,” she intoned. “They want people, and won’t
leave till they get them.”

Ehrin
nodded. “Okay...” His throat was dry, and his legs felt suddenly weak. “Listen.
Tell him that we might have someone... Tell him that we’ll return to the
skyship and bring them out. Ask him to give us five minutes.”

Sereth
nodded, fear stark in her eyes, and turned to the leader. As she spoke, Ehrin
watched the rider closely, trying to decipher his reaction.

He
heard Sereth out without expression, his gaze cold as he stared at the small
city woman.

Sereth
paused, and the tribesman flicked his head in a quick gesture and barked his
reply.

“What?”
Ehrin asked.

She
was smiling in relief. “He’s agreed. We can go. They will wait five minutes,
then meet us back here with two zeer in exchange for... one of us.”

Ehrin
took Sereth’s hand and edged around the gondola, fear prickling the nape of his
neck. He almost dragged Sereth the last few yards to the
Expeditor
and
bundled her inside. Cannak was in the lounge as they entered. He looked up from
his tisane as they hurried through to the control room. “There you are. I was
wondering...”

The
rest was lost as Ehrin pushed through the swing door into the control room and
busied himself at the control pedestal. Cannak was not to be deterred. He
followed Sereth and Ehrin, enquiring fussily, “If you care to tell me what—”

“Not
now, Elder. With respect, we’ve got to get out of here.”

Sereth
took Cannak to one side, explaining the situation. Ehrin heard the Elder say,
“Little more is to be expected from those who live a godless existence.”